Only With You, We'd Make It Through
by XxScarletxRosexX
Summary: For the SoMa week event on Tumblr 4/7/13 - 4/13/13 SUMMARIES ARE ON TOP EACH CHAPTER! UPDATED DAILY FOR THE WEEK! R&R pls!
1. Day 1: Memories- Her Smile

**Link for DA: **xxscarletxrosexx.

deviantart.

com/art/Day-1-Memories-Her-Smile-364148679?ga_subm it_new=10%253A1365466694&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1

**(c) Her Smile belongs to me  
****(c) Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Ōkubo**

**Summary:**

For the Tumblr SoMa event. Day 1: Memories.

Due to their bustling schedules as the elite Spartoi representatives, the duo rarely have the time to clean their apartment complex, let alone relax once in a while. While Maka cleans Soul's bedroom she discovers a blue hair ribbon from underneath his furniture. A female's hair ribbon in a male's room, now why would there be one here in the first place?

* * *

Once a month, Maka and Soul agreed to sacrifice one weekend to commit to spring cleaning.

Maka armed herself with a yellow apron, a Swiffer sweeper, and a bandana tied to her forehead. Her eyes blazed with determination with one hand clenched to the thin rod of the sweeper, while the other hand balled into a fist. Soul stared at Maka nervously, an eye twitched from her exuberant liveliness on house cleaning days.

"Alright, Soul, here's the plan," she strategized as if they were heading straight into battle, "you tackle all the dust bunnies on the counters, or any other hard to reach places with this." She handed him a brand new, yellow duster from the same company as her sweeper, with a retractable extender for higher areas. "I'll be cleaning our room first then we'll tackle the living room together."

"What's with the battle talk, Maka?" Soul inquired, "It's just our monthly spring cleaning."

"I know!" Maka chirped, "But doesn't it excite you? I mean, we'll be able to find stuff that we haven't seen in a month! It feels like a treasure hunt!"

Soul shrugged, walking away towards the kitchen to begin his chore. This type of Maka scared him more than her pissed off behavior, however he had the courtesy to not ruin her unusually preppy mood. But as he cleaned, Soul sensed something aloof… as if he was forgetting something possibly important.

Maka bounced to her perfectly organized room with glee and excitement. Maka had always been the type to keep her room clean on a daily basis since school and extra curricular activities filled their schedule, more importantly because of their title as the elite Spartoi members. Perhaps she was similar to Kid with this disorder, she considered, but at least hers wasn't as extreme and intense as his. She could only imagine Kid rearranging and cleaning his home during a spring cleaning days. She pitied the Thompson sisters, mostly Liz, from suffering through is obsessive complexion. Patty, having a passive personality, was flexible to any change and excused Kid's disorder as any of his usual behavior. But she had always been helpful when needed.

Maka hummed a small tune to herself while the sweeper glided across the pink tiles. Maka was grateful that their flat was consisted of tiled floors, making her life easier on cleaning days. At least she wouldn't have to worry about dragging a vacuum. While deep in thought, she considered to rearrange her room, but decided that she would have mercy on Soul since he would always deal with the heavy duty.

With nothing more than cleaning the glassy pink floors and returning her stacks of books to their proper shelves, Maka left her room to clean her partner's.

Soul's room was well organized, thanks to her consistent persuasions to keep it orderly and clean. Since he listened to her, the only thing Maka ever required to do was sweep the floor. She guided the cleaning utensil with gentle care, guiding it to the edges and other difficult spots to reach with a soft thud, but often stopped to make sure that there was no damage inflicted on her brand spanking new sweeper.

Maka then guided the sweeper underneath his freshly clothed mattress followed by sliding it across the drawer desk and the mahogany table. Once she retrieved the sweeper from the desk, a dark blue string embroidered with white laces caught her attention. Something about it screamed nostalgic, but another thought prevented her from finding out where she had seen this item before.

"Hey Maka! Are you done yet?" Soul hollered form the living room.

"Yeah! I'll be there in a sec." Without a moment to lose, Maka tucked the think fabric in her front apron pocket before assisting Soul.

* * *

Maka collapsed on a bright red three seating chair with a sigh of relief, ripping off the yellow bandana that was drenched with small amounts of perspiration.

"Thank shinigami that's over…" Soul agreed as he took a seat beside his meister. "Say, do you want a soda? I just got some this morning."

"Sure," Maka nodded gratefully. "Thanks."

Soul stood up to make his way to the white fridge, glowing as the result of his scrubbing work.

"Orange?"

"Yeah…" Maka straightened her messily, scrunched apron when she recalled the string she discovered from Soul's bedroom. She ran the string through her fingers idly, watching as the sun's light refracted from the shiny, silk blue threads.

"Urgh-" Soul gurgled, eyes locked on the object that his meister fingered.

"Soul… why was this in your room?" Maka questioned emotionlessly.

"I—uh…"

"You know what this is right?" Maka's fingers instantly stopped mid-movement, her face turned towards him, dark solid emeralds transfixed into his ruby orbs in accusation.

"Maka, I can explain," Soul began.

"So you did do it!" Maka exclaimed.

"No—I mean yes. I did-"

"When Soul? When I wasn't here? Did you think I wouldn't find out?" Maka's voice gradually hitched with the last couple words.

_Damn_, he didn't expect her to be this pissed. "L-look! I'm sorry I took it for all these years. I couldn't give it back to you that time."

"Wait—what?!" Maka's voice automatically dropped to their original soprano pitch. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that it was your hair tie, ya know, those old ribbons you used to wear that your old man used to buy you?" Soul clarified.

Maka stared at the ribbon, her mind deep in thought._ So that must explain why it seemed so familiar…_ "Soul, why do you have my ribbon?" Maka questioned intrigued.

Soul sighed as he sat the two drinks on the coffee table and took a seat on the red one seater chair, adjacent to his meister. "It was a long time ago, give or take several years before we became partners…"

* * *

"…_Girly! Bookworm! Girly! Bookworm! Girly!" a small boy taunted at a sandy haired child with her pigtails held up by twin navy blue laced ribbons._

"_S-shut up! I am not!" the young girl yelped with a high pitch voice. "I'm not girly or a bookworm!"_

"_But you always wear a dress and wear those stupid bows! And you always read!" the boy exclaimed, "You're a liar too! Ha ha ha!_

"_I said stop it!" the girl cried, "I'm warning you or else-"_

"_You'll call your daddy? **Waaahhhh! Boo hoo!**" the boy mocked. "Your daddy can't beat a god!"_

"_What god?" the female asked, "you're a kid like me!"_

"_You're too stupid to see it!" the boy taunted, "Now you're girly, a bookworm, a liar and stupid! Ha ha ha!"_

_Frustrated by the boy's harassment, the young girl held her thick novel and smashed it into the boy's messy, unusual blue hair._

"_Ow!" he complained while rubbing the sore spot where the book's spine had impacted. "You're gonna pay for that, you brat!" The boy lunged himself at the girl, roughly tugging at one of her ribbons off her hair with great success, causing the tresses of her sandy hair to tumble messily down her shoulder. "Nah, nah, nah-nah, nah! You'll never get this back from me!"_

_The young girl stood up, glaring at her opponent with fierce green eyes. Her body language screamed a feral attack, ready to pounce him at any second, but instead, dusted her blue dress before turning around and walking away while muttering, "Keep it. I don't need that ribbon anyways." She didn't cry like normal girls usually did, baffling the little boy with short, interesting curiosity. Instead of dwelling too long on the thought, he moved on to the playground, destroying castles and proclaiming himself as king of the entire playground. He pulled his head back as he released an attempt of menacing laughter._

_What the exuberant child didn't know was that there was a witness who watched from the distance, a child with strange, natural albino hair, blood red eyes, and razor sharp teeth. This child waited for the blue haired child to lower his guard before sprinting across the playground, the blue laced ribbon at hand._

_The surprised narcissist, cried out in protest while he chased the boy for the ribbon, threatening him with painful beatings for his misconduct. Because he had acted on impulse, the albino ran blindly around the unfamiliar Death City of Nevada desert. He ran all over the place in search of the young emerald eyed child while attempting to shake off his pursuer. He ran straight into a narrow alley, waiting for his blue haired pursuer to run past him in blinding speed. It was there that he asked himself of his intention to return the ribbon to the female child. He didn't know her, but he didn't know the other boy too, so why bother carrying on this stupid chase that could cause him his life? No, there was a reason… he just couldn't remember it, but it was safe to assume that he did it for the sake of justice?_

_Once his pursuer's blundering cries were distant, the albino snuck out of his hiding and continued his search for the young girl. But alas, he was called back by his parents, ending his fruitless adventure._

* * *

"I… I remember that," Maka gawked at Soul, her eyes as big as saucers. "That was the day Black*Star stole my ribbon after calling me all those horrible names… I walked away thinking that it was the only way to prove to him that I wasn't any of those things." Maka paused to glance at the floor before meeting his eyes once more, her bashful nature kicking into high gear, "B-but how did you know it was me?"

Soul shrugged. "I didn't really put much effort after that," he stated bluntly.

Maka frowned, disheartened.

"But I guess it's when I saw that glint of fierce determination in your eyes when it came to tough situations. You were never the type to show fear when it was looking straight at your face. That reminded me of her…"

Maka glanced down at the ribbon in her hand and giggled softly to her amusement.

Soul glanced at her cheerful expression before looking down at the ribbon in her hand. The answer had been in front of him all along! Soul just wanted to smack himself for growing up to be such a blind, stupid idiot. His goal in the past… it was to see her smile.

Soul couldn't resist to ask her about the abrupt laughter, "What?"

"It almost seems like a fairy tale, like Cinderella and her glass slipper," Maka chuckled once more, "I guess it's fate that we're stuck together."

"Unfortunately," Soul sighed, "I'm kidding!"

Maka dropped her glare as she reached for her orange soda from the coffee table. She popped the can with the aluminum tab before settling it on her lips and drank a hearty amount.

"So what did you think that ribbon was?" Soul smirked mischievously.

Maka had to slap a hand to her mouth from spraying the liquid all over the clean living room. She forced herself to swallow the amount despite the protesting bubble of air in her throat before glaring at Soul sharply.

Her face flushed red, but ignored the burning sensation. "Nothing, Soul."

Soul stood up and approached Maka, leaning over her frazzled body with his hands planted on either side of her head. She flinched from Soul's playful touch on her sandy brown pigtail.

He drew closer until their faces were barely touching by a hair's width. Maka shivered at the warm breath that tickled her cheeks from the close proximity. He grinned, pleased by her reaction towards him. He dropped his voice to a gruff whisper to entice her bashful nature, "So, Maka-_chan_, will you tell me? Or…" Soul gently brushed his fingers over Maka's blushing face with feathery touches, "will I force it out of you."

Maka stared at him speechlessly. She was going to die, she just knew it. He knew how he affected her, oh yes, it was an undeniable, sweet pleasure. She wanted him badly, but if she revealed this side of her towards him, he wouldn't live it down for the rest of her life.

"So Maka-_chan_…" Soul repeated with a purr, "…whose head is in the gutter now?"

Maka automatically smacked his head with the nearest book set on the coffee table. With a loud, "Hmph!" to express her irritation for falling into his manipulation, Maka returned to her room with a loud slam of the door.

Soul groaned, chastising himself for knowing better than to manipulate his best friend when ever they were surrounded in an area with books accessible at arm's length. Damn, they should be labeled as some sort of artillery one day.

But in the end, it was worth the pain. Who knows? Maybe he'll make it up to her later that evening.

* * *

**For the Soul Eater SoMa week event on TUMBLR! (4/7-4/13) I'm totally unsure if I'll be able to catch up with it, but I will freakin' try! :D**

**They're my OTP and they should be worth it!**

**I hope you enjoy the story though! ;D**


	2. Day 2: Trust SNEAK PEEK

**Link for DA: **xxscarletxrosexx.

deviantart.

com/art/Day-2-Trust-SNEAK-PEEK-Official-title-TBA- 364368592

**(c) (title TBA) belongs to me****  
****(c) Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Ōkubo**

**Summary:**

TBA...

* * *

_**No… you wouldn't understand what it's like to grow up cynical towards every male human beings on this planet. To have them make you feel as if your loved and special to them when you know that they're only manipulating you with half-hearted sweet nothings. Some people call this view ignorant, perhaps I daresay sexist, but people like me who has experienced it first hand, it's called pain and the loss of trust.**_

* * *

**A/N: **

**This is just a sneak peek of what I will be writing for today's theme.**  
**I'm still thinking though.**

**I'm in a foul mood today b/c I'm stressing over the fact that I'll be a senior next year and I have no idea what I wanna pursue in life (well I do have in mind but no college in thought). Adding on to this foul mood, I'm listening to _Selenic Soul_ since the piano is just simply heart-touching and amplifying my horrible mood. Don't take it the wrong way, my foul mood helps me when I write.**

**So… I hope this may be an interesting story to read for today's theme. What do you think?**


	3. Day 2: Trust- Compromise

**Link for DA:**xxscarletxrosexx.

deviantart.

com/art/Day-2-Trust-Compromise-364435994?ga_submit _new=10%253A1365494237&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1&ga_recent=1

**(c) Compromise belongs to me****  
****(c) Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Ōkubo**

**Summary:**

_No… you wouldn't understand what it's like to grow up cynical towards every male human being on this planet. To have them make you feel as if you're loved and feel special to them when you know that they're only manipulating you with half-hearted sweet nothings. Some people call this view ignorant, perhaps I daresay sexist, but people like me who has experienced it first hand, it's called pain and the loss of trust._

* * *

_Papa loves you and Mama the most…_

_Papa loves you and Mama the most…_

_Papa loves you and Mama—_

Lies… If Papa truly loved Mama and I, then he wouldn't have chased other women. He knew it was wrong, every adult should be able to distinguish the right choices from the bad, and yet he still did it. He still hurt Mama and destroyed our happy family. Mama didn't need to see it for herself, she knew. It was the sweet, intoxicating scent that lingered on his black suits. It was the dark, bruised marks that he covered with bandages around his neck and face, and the long, flustered reaction when he explained its formation. It was the way he looked at other women when she wanted his attention during family bonding.

Papa never saw Mama's hurt expression. She always hid it from him when he was around, but when he left, she knew that he would be with someone else that day. I've seen Mama cry countless times and explain to me that she watched a sad movie. I've heard her frustrated debates to leave Papa, but always neglected the thought because of me.

Then one night, Mama snapped. She screamed at him vehemently expressing her aching heart and his shallow personality. Mama declared a divorce before trudging out with what's left of her dignity. She met me at the door, a luggage at hand and a soft, loving goodbye before she departed. Papa went after her, but he returned to me empty handed.

"_Don't worry, Maka. Papa's here with you. Papa loves you and Mama the most."_

I didn't cry until the next morning I woke up, the event that night finally sunk in. The image of a perfect family, sabotaged.

I can't trust men... No, I vowed to myself that very day that I would never trust men ever again. They harbored painful motives, promising us sweet nothings and love, when they were merely illusions of a happiness we sought for. I've been criticized for my opinions, harassed for being a complete sexist, but they wouldn't understand the pain. They were just ignorant people who never considered the bad side of life, always looking at the positive outlook, blindly walking into a flawed illusion that would lead to their own demise, a life of ignorance.

Their opinions often carried ad hominem conversations, forcing me into their rubbish belief, but I knew better. Men were born with a sadistic master mind.

_Papa loves you and Mama the most…_

Papa, least of all, would never understand.

* * *

He led me into a dark, spacious room, with nothing but a jet black, mahogany piano sat in the middle of the bare room.

"Listen… this is who I am." Then his fingers played a piece, starting with the bass keys in a slow, soft pace, pouring his emotions into them as if they were the only things keeping him grounded. The slender fingers flitted across the keys in a staccato manner, pressing down what seemed to be the correct notes of the song. As the piece continued, its pace quickened, the piano shrilling with commanding authority to pay strict attention. And I did. I tried, but I can only notice the transition between a soft whisper to a deafening buzz and back, like a game of ping pong. Throughout the entire piece, the musician swayed like it was a dance with graceful fluidity. It was beautiful and mesmerizing to see someone so implicated to his burning passion. Then the music softened, slowing with graceful ease as he keyed into the last three notes.

He turned to me with a feral, charming grin with this unusual shark teeth winking at me from the one fluorescent light beaming just above us. I knew it was then he wanted me to utter something, anything about his small performance. Despite my disability to comprehend, I did learn something from this, and that was **trust**. I was baffled at the thought that he could easily give his trust to _me_, a stranger who was just settling to be his life-long committed partner. It was then I decided that it was okay to give my trust to him in exchange for his.

"It was interesting," I answered honestly. He chuckled lightly before introducing himself. _**Soul Eater**_. He extended a hand towards me. _Here_, I told myself, _with no one but God as our witness, I vow to only trust Soul._ I was scared, to be completely honest, I was scared to give Soul Eater my trust, but I still continued with it anyway. To complete my vow, I slipped off my glove and shook his hand with a good grip.

"It's nice to meet you Soul, I'm Maka Albarn."

* * *

"Blair! You used your magic to make Soul wanna be with you! That's a dirty trick!" I pointed at the witch with accusation. Soul would never do this to me.

"You really are stupid." The familiar deep voice caused me to retract. "Any men would choose a girl with a body like Blair's over you and your flat chest. She didn't have to trick me to make me pick her instead of you."

When those words left his lips, my heart tightened inside my chest. For a moment, I saw Papa in Soul's place as he turned his back from me and stood beside the attractive witch. I heard my cries, calling him back and going back to Mama, but he continued walking away with someone else.

"You men…" my voice shook, "All of you, you're horrible… Cheating on every woman…"

I clenched my eyes shut the moment I felt the tears prickle my eyes. Even though I had countless imaginations of Soul's abandonment, I always pictured myself to keep a strong expression on my face as I waived him away. But that brave face wasn't here… my imaginations, no matter how realistic I had envisioned the negative event, was nothing compared to the harsh slap of reality.

"But **you**…" the last word cracked as I envisioned our mutual agreement to be partners, "**you I actually decided to trust.** I can't believe this." My fingers curled into balled fists at my sides as tears began to overflow profusely at their own command. My voice hitched several octaves as I exclaimed, "**I wish that all of you would just die!**"

With what's left of my composure, I inquired, "Hey Soul, you said that all women make wild assumptions without reasoning first, right? That's what you said? **TO WHAT REASON DO MEN HAVE FOR CHEATING? IT'S NOT FAIR!**" I didn't realize my body bowed forward. Perhaps my body unintentionally did it to keep my vow from ever shed for a single man, or perhaps it was to save myself from further embarrassment for my stupidity. But this pride… it's all I have left.

Even after the plan worked, we failed the mission. Ever since that day, I still wondered if Soul would ever come around and leave me. It did happen before. It was only a matter of time when Soul would wake up and see how pathetic of a lowly meister I truly am. He'll choose anyone over me…

* * *

"—ka. Maka. Tiny tits."

That earned him a slap with my book.

"Dammit! Where the hell do all these books come from?!" He paused a moment, quickly brushing off the action. "Hey, you okay? Why are you crying?"

Reflexively, my hand touched my drenched cheeks, hurriedly wiping them away. "It's nothing. I just got some sleep dust in my eye. Don't worry about it."

"Maka."

"I told you it's just some sleep dust," I snapped, "You don't need to-"

"It was a nightmare, wasn't it?"

My eyes widened at the statement before turning away, fixated on the yellow rug, a frown set on my lips.

"You know you can always tell me, Maka. Partners are supposed to trust each other after all."

I met his eyes, probing it for any signs of malice or insincerity like the ones he revealed to me during the battle with Blair. There was no presence of that, let alone the usual banter that gleamed in his mischievous ruby orbs. He was serious.

"Say, Soul…" his face perked at the sound of his name, "what is trust to you?"

"Trust?" Soul wondered, cupping his chin inquisitively, "Isn't it like a bond between two people. The longer you stay together through obstacles, the stronger it gets? I mean look at us right now, we're the coolest partners in DWMA. Nothing can stop us."

"But if you were to meet someone cooler…?" I trailed, turning my attention back to the fuzzy yellow rug.

From the corner of my eye, Soul sat closer to me. A second later, a painful flick impacted my forehead, tingling in its aftermath.

"What the heck was that for!"

"Damn, those mushrooms forming on your head must have had you brain washed," Soul muttered, "as if there's anyone cooler at DWMA." The albino rose up from the couch, stretched his arms before tucking them behind his head. As he walked away, I had to strain my ears to hear his soft message, "I already have the coolest one there is." Then in an audible volume, "It's your turn to wash dishes. I'm crashing for the night. Good night, Maka."

At the sound of his door click shut, a small smile formed on my lips. I never regretted my compromised agreement since then.

* * *

**Totally sexist, I know. But, like Maka, I know how it feels on a first hand account.**

**Ya'll should be proud of me! It's like almost 1 in flipping morning and I was so totally gonna rage quit on this story, but I didn't. I went with the flow. **

**I typed this up too, so no rough draft just like "Not Just Sweets". I'm kinda scared to hear the reaction from you guys, but I'm gonna go sleep now...**

**By the way, if you're gonna flat out call me sexist, then don't bother commenting. I'm not. I'm just slipping into character.**


	4. Day 3: Protection SNEAK PEEK

**Link for DA: **xxscarletxrosexx.

deviantart.

com/art/Day-3-Protection-Significance-SNEAK-PEEK-3 64617591?ga_submit_new=10%253A1365580326&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1&ga_recent=1

**(c) Significance belongs to me**  
**(c) Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Ōkubo**

**Summary:**

TBA...

* * *

_Wake up… Dress up… Eat… Rehearse… Practice… Performance… Sleep…_

_Wake up… Dress up… Eat… Rehearse… Practice… Performance… Sleep…_

_Wake up… Dress up… Eat… Rehearse… Practice… Performance… Sleep…_

What was the meaning of life when events occurred in a habitual manner? It had been exciting to discover that I had inherited the family talent, yes, it was a wonderful discovery for me, but I never noticed that twinkle of anxiety in their ruby eyes, nor the sigh of relief when they watched me pick at random notes off the bank of black and white keys with interest and excitement. Back then, I had expected a life of happiness with a blessed family who is known for their musical heritage... It took a decade to finally grasp that life wasn't as black and white as it seemed.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Oh poo... I couldn't post it on time, and this is honestly all I have written so far :/**

**Tomorrow then, I'll finish typing it up and post it tomorrow evening... I hope.**

**Here's a sneak peek for now.**


	5. Day 3: Protection- Significance

**Link for DA:** xxscarletxrosexx.

deviantart.

com/art/Day-3-Protection-Significance-364804115?ga _submit_new=10%253A136565571

**(c) Significance belongs to me**  
**(c) Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Ōkubo**

**Summary:**

_Wake up… Dress up… Eat… Rehearse… Practice… Performance… Sleep…_

_Wake up… Dress up… Eat… Rehearse… Practice… Performance… Sleep…_

_Wake up… Dress up… Eat… Rehearse… Practice… Performance… Sleep…_

_What was the meaning of life when events occurred in a habitual manner? It had been exciting to discover that I had inherited the family talent, yes, it was a wonderful discovery for me, but I never noticed that twinkle of anxiety in their ruby eyes, nor the sigh of relief when they watched me pick at random notes off the bank of black and white keys with interest and excitement. Back then, I had expected a life of happiness with a blessed family who is known for their musical heritage... It took a decade to finally grasp that life wasn't as black and white as it seemed._

* * *

I lived to please my parents, to make them crack a loving smile as they praised the budding achievements as I grew up over time. Mother loved brother and I dearly, she never went a day without smothering us with kisses and showering us with nostalgic stories of our infancy. Annoying and uncool as it was, I was grateful for that. She was the perfect mother I could ever ask for. Father, on the other hand, had high expectations. He was never one to praise me of my growing accomplishments, but always constantly measured up to Wes.

_Why can't you make your music flow like your brother's?_

_How are you struggling with this piece? Your brother played it perfectly in just his first try!_

_If you personalize that piece, then it's as good as garbage._

_Be more like Wes._

_Follow Wes._

I'm sick of those goddamn words. Father was impossible to impress because of Wes, the first born who captured the apple of his eyes, gifted with extraordinaire musical talent, and to sum it up**: the perfect prodigy**. Whenever Wes completed his assignments and shared it to our parents, Father's lips would curve into a prideful grin, several beating claps, and a clasp to Wes's shoulder as he murmured a soft, "Well done, my son."

I never had those moments of intimacy with Father, never was acknowledged for my talents because they were always several steps behind the evolving skills of my brother's, I was always _yesterday's news_. That was my goal for a complete decade, but it never turned up to me that the day I receive Father's acknowledgement is the day I surpass Wes. But let's be realistic here, I will never outshine Wes.

And so I succumbed to a life of darkness, hearing—or imagining it at the very least—audience gossip about the difference between Wes's skills and mine. That was my life, a shadow to a prodigy that everyone has madly fallen in love with. My life that day evaporated into numbness, a void filled with inquiries about my goal in life and the meaning of my own existence. _Don't I have a reason to live?_ I wondered. It sure as hell didn't seem like it and I'm pretty damn sure that my life isn't all about being compared to my brother. It became a constant necessity to find a reason for my existence, to grasp on to something, anything whether it was tangible or a false imagination. I needed a reason to continue living on.

Three years later, the day Wes and I visited Grandmother, I discovered a sense of freedom: my blood was a weapon. No one ever suspected that I was going to be a weapon, not even Grandmother, let alone our parents. For a moment, I was happy because I finally had something that Wes didn't inherit. He was impressed, and I felt superior for once in my life. I finally had a reason to leave my dreadful past and move on.

At first, both Father and Mother refused to acknowledge it, until I showed them a curving black and red zigzagging blade that replaced my right arm. They were bewildered, but not pleased, especially not Father. Huh, that's pretty ironic. I finally have something that Wes doesn't and he shows me disapproval, maybe even a glimmer of disgust was floating in his eyes the moment my arm was enveloped in a radiant, blinding white. Mother still loved me despite that, I was grateful once more for her unconditional love and acceptance towards me. Although, it is unknown for sure to state whose side of the family had branched from a weapon, but Mother had offered me a deal that was too enticing to back down. She knew of a prestigious private school in the middle of the Nevada desert called "The Death Weapon Meister Academy" supposedly similar to a boot camp. But I didn't give a damn then and took the opportunity.

The next thing I knew, my luggage was in my hand and a ticket to Nevada was in the other. Mother kissed me on the cheek as she waved me off. The last thing I heard was a, "Write to Mommy, okay?" _**How uncool.**_

* * *

I was instantly blown away by the place. Although it was a small city, I had to admit that the whole gothic architecture really added on to its coolness, especially at night. Anyways, Lord Death got me well adjusted to the place. He paid me two hundred bucks for a starting allowance, I mean, the guy must be loaded! Principals didn't do this kind of stuff, although, money wasn't an issue with a local Evans member, and he sure as hell knew that, but even so, he did whatever it took to give a welcoming accommodation, including giving me a temporary room at the bottom of the freakin' institute! That sure is one hell of a great impression, and I sure as hell had a huge liking to him, despite his high pitch voice and the friendly skull that masked his face.

I was enrolled to the school like any ordinary child at the time, and it wasn't long until I met her.

She was born with a bashful nature, curious, but gifted with great intelligence and skills. She had been looking all over the place for a weapon when I accidentally crashed into her while I was escaping a crowd of maniacal women who wanted me to be their partner. At first, they reminded me of a past I vowed to neglect, in which women pursued Wes and I for our status and label us the _trophy boyfriend._ It disgusted me to no avail, but I would be lying if I hated the attention. But this pursuit frightened me, as uncool as I'll ever admit. For that brief moment, I thought they imagined me as the brother of a musical genius, but that's impossible… at least I hoped.

But this girl, with sandy haired pig tails and huge emerald glowing eyes, wasn't like them. Words weren't needed to explain the situation, with just a tug of my arm and a strong, confident, "Follow me," as she took the lead, assisting a stranger who was being mobbed by possibly one third of the school's female population. It was alarming, but strangely enough, I trusted her.

I remember panting beside her in a dark, narrow hallway that led beneath the academy. She peeked out the door, making sure that the coast was clear whilst sharing a small, mutual conversation about searching for a scythe weapon partner before saying her goodbye. I remember stopping her by grabbing her wrist and continuing the conversation that we had left off. I told her that I was looking for a scythe meister and her eyes sparked with interest, but said nothing to be polite, or was it because of her bashful nature? I neglected the thought aside and decided to ask her if she knew if there was a music room that had a piano. The spark in her eyes dissipated the moment when she nodded thoughtfully, in return she asked in a casual manner, "Do you know how to play?" like it was the most innocent question to ever slip out of her mouth. By the jests of it, she had no idea who I was, nor did she attack me like a crazed fan girl and that reassured me.

"Somewhat."

She smiled politely before leading us down another dwindling hallway and to a large pair of black, polished doors that led into a great dark room with nothing but framed pictures decorating the wall perpendicular to the glossy, baby black piano. It was both a relief and sickening to see the instrument lamenting in its solitude within this dark room, with nothing but one bright light shining down on it. I strode in, carefully making my way to the piano and glided a finger across the cool, clear surface that rested just above the keys. With gentle care, I lifted the frame and pushed the coat back after noting that it was not designed to be retractable like any of the classical pianos. Underneath, the natural keys were a crisp color of white snow and illuminating, well polished accidentals. The piano appeared brand new, no doubt about it, but according to the girl, it was purchased a couple years ago, but often used as a display rather than being used. It's funny to think that this instrument and I have been experiencing a similar path of seclusion.

Although I was lost within my fascinated fixation, I knew that the sandy haired girl behind me was still there, observing my every move like I was her personal TV channel. She didn't speak, but I knew she was still there. I plopped down a similar obsidian bench before turning towards her, "Hey…"

She looked at me with attentive curiosity, her hands folded behind her back in a manner that she looked like a sweet, innocent child. I would rather be killed off than ever compliment a person _cute_, but she… she was the only exception.

"Listen. This is who I am."

I don't know what drove me to do this. Maybe I felt that I should play her something to show my gratitude for her rescue—damn, I never imagined being in distress, let alone be saved by a girl; that's unnervingly uncool—or maybe its perhaps I wanted to test her, to scare her away with my provoking piece. For those five minutes, I melted into the keys as if the instrument and I had become one being. A dark tune emanated from the piano, sharing our desolate tales with the deep base notes in mezzo piano and gradually growing into mezzo forte, the tears I hid within staccato transitions, and the countless times I wished to be free from my bondage within the treble range with continuous fortissimo. I wanted her to understand that I was broken, confused, and overall, alone. When the piece ended, she didn't answer. For a moment, I thought she had disappeared, but I did not recall the sound of the door closing from behind, and so I turned to her, grinning like a champion, even though deep down inside I was afraid of her critique. I was afraid that I would be belittled once again.

"It was interesting…" she trailed honestly, I could see in her eyes that she held no malice nor criticism in her intriguing emerald orbs. She looked a bit uncomfortable, confused on what she should say next, as if she knew nothing about music at all. I chuckled to myself as I extended a hand to her.

"I'm Soul Eater."

She unlatched her hands from behind and it was then I noticed that she was wearing a pair of white gloves. With gentle care, she removed one glove and shook mine with her small hand in a professional, firm grip. The shake alone, told me she meant business.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Maka Albarn."

* * *

I can honestly tell you that there has never been one moment when Maka and I have ever fought, for stupid reasons in fact, like washing dishes. I grew accustomed to the transition of our chores, but you can't blame a guy to get lazy once in a while, right? Maka's an earful when it comes to her nags, but I carry out the task anyways because there will be no end to the chastening until I do what she says.

But despite our consistent disputes, I still stayed with Maka. Even when I left her to cool down, I still returned to her. You see, no matter how many arguments we get into, I can never leave Maka. She's not just my meister or a roommate, she's my best friend. As cheesy and uncool as it sounds, but I need her in my life. I honestly wouldn't know where I would be without Maka hanging around and killing my brain cells every once in a while. I learned that with every fight, there's always something new I learn from her, such as trusting people when she herself had difficulty to trust men, but she managed for my sake. She put a lot of effort to make my life worthwhile and exciting and I want to do the same for her, not because it's my duty or it's the right thing to do, but because **I want to**.

I am aware that Maka is strong, anyone can tell by the way she swings her book like it's a mace into someone's cranium, yet she's also very fragile. Often times, I've caught her crying about something, but she would brush it off with a smile on her lips. With the same stupid words played over and over again like a broken record.

"I'm fine, Soul. Don't worry about it."

It's something to worry about because… because… it's not right to let her handle her problems alone. I don't want her to suffer more than she's already had. Even if it's for the smallest reason, I still take it upon myself to assist and help her in any way I can. And I sure as hell would kill the bastard that hurts her.

With this contemplation, I realized that Maka gave my life significance by playing an important role in hers, and she in mine, we are a necessity to support each other through our darkest moments. We want to be stronger for each other; it's a mutual agreement that doesn't require us to express it in words but in action. I would do anything to protect Maka, especially if it cost me my life.

I am serious when I state that I would die for her, if it ever comes to that extent. Because Maka is the very reason why I'm significant, if I lose her, then I don't think I would want to go on.

* * *

"Hey, idiot, you'll catch a cold if you sleep out here. Go sleep in your room."

I felt her cool fingers softly press my cheeks repetitively, but I refused to budge. She continued the action, aware that I will have to give in to her stubborn commands. Instead of swatting her hand away, I grabbed her write and pulled her downward, causing her body to land on top of mine with a loud thud.

"Just stay like this," I murmured, wrapping my arms behind her back and pulling her body next to mine in a protective vice. "…like this."

I didn't hear Maka reply, but I certainly felt her cheek flood with warmth on my chest, I smirked with delight. At least she didn't make any signs of struggling away.

My wistful happiness came to an end the moment I felt something impale my head with blinding pain, my eye opened to a narrow slit to glare at the bookworm.

"**Shit! Ow! Maka!**"

"That's what you get for not listening," she grumbled before rolling off the couch and yanking my tingling arms, "I went to sleep after you woke me up yesterday, Soul! C'mon let's go back to bed, it's late."

"That's what she said."

That received another blow to the head.

"You know what, just die, Soul! I hope you catch a cold!" Maka ran off to the opposite direction, slamming her door with intensity while I sat on the couch, chuckling to myself.

"She's worth it."

* * *

**A/N:**

By the way, did you notice that all three stories so far connect into one story? It's a story within a story... a STORY-CEPTION!

**I'm totally lagging 1 day behind ;A;  
Now I should really start on my homework. I can't believe this took me 5 hours to write this... :(  
But I totally hope that it's worth the wait!**


	6. Day 4: Fight- Haven't Had Enough

**Link for DA:** xxscarletxrosexx.

deviantart.

com/art/Day-4-Fight-Haven-t-Had-Enough-365822602?g a_submit_new=10%253A1366020919&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1&ga_recent=1

**(c) Haven't Had Enough belongs to m****e  
****(c) Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Ōkubo  
****(*) Inspired by "Haven't Had Enough" by Marianas Trench**

**Summary:**

Arguments are pretty rare to spark between close friends, but that's not the case for these infamous pair. Today marks the day of their 3 year anniversary as partners, and Maka decides to make something memorable for her partner. The day is supposed to go according to plan, and yet, an inevitable storm brews between the two, causing Maka to storm out of her house in frustration. In her absence, Soul contemplates their relationship as well as the importance of their inevitable conflicts.

* * *

"It's finally here!"Maka exclaimed excitedly as she glanced at the calendar clipped to the wall adjacent to her green desk. "Now…" she considered thoughtfully, _what should I get Soul today…?_

Today was the mark of their three year anniversary, the day they became partners. Maka had always attempted to purchase Soul a _new-arriving _present relevant to music, but every time she returned home with the product in thought, Soul would already have it lying on the coffee table with the stereo playing it. Since then, Maka contemplated other ideas to serve as her presents. On their first year, she promised him a picnic. Last year, it was a trip for two to visit California's finest beaches, with Lord Death's and her father's permission, although the latter was quite difficult to persuade, being a complete over protective lunatic of a father that he was. This year she wanted to make something tangible for Soul's present. She wanted him to be happy with something she created with her own abilities, after all a present from the heart is the most priceless.

With a sigh, Maka paced out of her room and towards the kitchen. She turned her concentration on to the color coated note refrigerator. Her emerald eyes scanned about the notes, hoping to find any words that could formulate some sort of inspirational idea. After scanning the fridge from head to toe for a third time, sighing disappointedly with a hand clutched to the side door before swinging it open. Her eyes searched for her favorite orange flavored soda, when an idea struck her. _Favorite meal_, she thought wholeheartedly. She'll make Soul's favorite dinner, after all, tonight's her turn to cook. With a small gleeful squeal, she refocused her attention back to the contents, only to gape at the lacking amount of provisions. With a frustrated groan, she shrieked to the sky blue frame beside the fridge, "**SOUL! WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WENT GROCERY SHOPPING?!**"

"Oh shit," a petulant exclamation reverberated from behind, shuffling footsteps patted the floor for several moments before swinging open to reveal a groggy, bed-head Soul rubbing an eye. With a drop of his balled hand he added, "Would it kill you not to scream once in a while?"

"I wouldn't be **YELLING** if a certain guy remembers his chores," she shouted, exasperated, biting back the impulse to lash out.

"I will get to it later, Maka," Soul groaned, irritated by her bossy personality. "Let me sleep in a bit."

"Sleep in?!" Maka asked, irked, "What the hell were you doing last night?"

Soul avoided her jagged narrow gaze with closed eyes before shrugging. "It's none of your concern."

"Hah...?! _None of __**my**__ concern_? It is my concern, Soul! I'm your partner. I deserve to know your business at the very least…" Maka paused; an epiphany struck her mind, "Don't tell me you've been having nightmares again."

Soul shook his head slowly, erasing a brief image that popped into his mind. "Get off my back, Maka," he snapped, "I'm entitled to my own privacy as much as you are smothering your head in those books of yours. Wouldn't you be annoyed if I constantly asked what part you're reading?"

Maka shrugged indifferently, "It's not like you'll ever ask me anyways."

"I meant metaphorically."

"I know," Maka chuckled dryly, "when will you ever ask me something like that?"

Soul sighed, a hand to his face whilst shaking his head disapprovingly. _Bad example_, he moaned to himself. "What I'm trying to say is I want to have my space."

"But that doesn't mean I can't be worried," Maka stated evenly.

"Whatever." Soul stretched as he turned his back to her, "I just wish that you could respect my space. It's uncool to act like a _bossy house wife_."

"Well I wouldn't be so _bossy_ if you did your tasks," Maka crossed her arms, "I wish you were as organized as Kid for once."

A hand hovered over the gold knob in a frozen state. His teeth clenched before dropping the hand to his side. Without bothering to look at her, he hissed, "If you can be more like Tsubaki. At least she's smart **AND** considerate unlike a certain person I know."

"**I AM CONSIDERATE TOO, YA KNOW.**"

With a crane of his neck, Soul sneered at his meister, "At least she respects her partner's privacy and doesn't scream at him to do errands. _**AND**_ she doesn't abuse her partner like you do."

"Maybe I'll act more like her when you learn your flaws." Maka spun around with dignity, making her way to the door without another glance at Soul.

"Wait—Where the hell are you going, bookworm?"

"Doing your stupid chores."

_**SLAM.**_

"Damn it all," Soul growled aggravated, a hand ruffled his unruly snowy locks in a chagrined manner, "every single damn day…" He brought his hand back on the door before turning the dim colored knob. "What an ungodly hour…" the albino threw himself on his bed, turning his head towards a blue, carefully wrapped, present resting on his mahogany desk before closing his eyes in deep contemplation.

Soul couldn't recall how many times Maka and he had fought since the day they met; it was so common to fight on a daily basis that it had slipped into the normalcy of their daily routine, there was not a day where he and Maka had **never **_**not**_** fought**. _It's strange_, he admitted to himself. Their relationship with one another was completely different from any normal meisters and weapons that got along with one another, like Tsubaki and Black*Star. Although he loves Black*Star to death… _That came out wrong_, Soul halted, wracking his mind for better vocabulary to fix that thought before giving up with a chuckle to himself, shrugging the homogeneous notion aside indifferently. Well, he did love Black*Star to death, anyways, but he'll admit that he wouldn't know how to handle the proud, hyperactive ninja on a daily basis without falling fatigue, or at the very least, irritated.

Maka and he, on the other hand, were pretty explosive when a storm brewed. Soul would be lying if he never considered leaving Maka. The issue often times, popped into his head during his cool down ride around the city. They would fight for stupid reasons then he would receive a Maka chop to the head, and ultimately storm out of the room for a drive while she caved inside her bedroom. They were completely opposites and she drove him insane with her uncomprehending, let alone reasoning, feminine intuitions and assumptions. He oughtta find someone else as a partner who doesn't abuse him, and yet… he **wants** to be with Maka. He already knows the reason why, and hell no, she's not the reason why he escaped his former life as a pianist. His dream several nights ago was already a vehement ventilation of his view of her. He admired her, and dare he say… more? He would never tell her these feelings he recently discovered, that's one secret he'll never share with his meister.

Curiously, he wondered if he had these feelings for her along his admiration for the talented meister. It couldn't be the day they just met since they were practically strangers, and let's not forget how weary she was the first couple of days of his residing. He remembered inwardly chuckling to himself in amusement because of Maka's sputtering reaction to her groggy, bed head appearance. Perhaps that was the day the albino decided to tease Maka mercilessly, and so forth fused into his daily routine. It's not long before a joke goes too far and stirs up an explosive dispute between them, and yet, ironically, with every fight, their relationship grew stronger, and they also learned something new about one another. These stupid fights actually played an important role in their lives, and Soul is pretty damn sure that neither of them haven't had enough of it.

On another note, there had been often times when he worried about his actions around her, whether if he was acting like an over protective father—_"One is enough," Maka explained to him, and Soul couldn't agree more_—or a possessive partner. Either way, they would result with Maka's short-tempered Maka chops. He did ponder, however, if Maka had ever contemplated of leaving him. It frightened him; goose bumps coated his body with just the thought of it. But, if ever Maka ever decided to leave him, then he would knock some senses into her mind and until she spat out a legitimate reason for breaking their pact. _Until that day comes, I'll stay by Maka's side, _Soul yawned before drifting into unconsciousness.

_I should get her back after she cools down…_

* * *

An abrupt start stirred Soul from sleep. _A nightmare_, he groaned again. He had been having reoccurring nightmares recently and had difficulty to sleep the past weeks to Maka's sharp observation. He hated worrying Maka with his problems, he hated burdening her with things that he should be able to handle himself, but he can't, he doesn't know how to find the solution to this nightmares. Perhaps it was the little ogre's fault for wreaking havoc in his dreams because of his stubborn decline to give in to his submission, thus persuading him through fear and irritation. _It couldn't be_… he hummed to himself, _that demon told me before: he doesn't persuade me that way since it's not his style, similar to mine; well he's me after all._

With a defeating sigh, he strained his attention to the round clock on his bedside table before kicking his sheets off. The clock read seven o' clock in the evening. _How long did I sleep?_ He pondered before rushing to his bedroom door and swung it open with an alarming amount of anxiety. _Where's Maka?_

"Blair!" he called out. "You home?"

"Nyah," a kitten purred on his leg, her purple head nuzzled him with friendly affection.

"Is Maka in her room?" he inquired.

"Maka isn't here, nyah~" Blair answered, "it was quiet when I came home. I checked Maka's room, but she wasn't there."

"Damn," he hissed as he turned back into his room, slamming the door behind him. He hurriedly changed his outfit to his usual casual attire: dark jeans, orange shirt, a black jacket, and to top it off, a white headband.

"Did you and Maka get in a fight again?" Blair asked.

"What makes you say that?" Soul emerged from his room, hurriedly fixing his unruly bed hair.

Blair sighed despondently, "Today is your three year anniversary, right?"

Soul froze in his tracks; his eyes flickered for a quick glance to his sky blue door before refocusing to the lavender tiled floors. "Yeah… it is."

"Maka has been waiting for this day to arrive, Soul," Blair stated ominously, "All women are excited when an important event arrives. You should go make up with her," she winked before strutting away into Maka's bedroom without another glance at Soul.

The albino nodded to her advice belatedly, his fingers dug into his black jacket to fish out his keys. He strode out of his flat. His heart quickened, gut shrieked warning bells, but quickly forsakes any negative thoughts from formulating into his anxious mind. _How long had it been since Maka left?_ He prayed that she only had a difficult time carrying surplus provisions and passed out on a park bench to catch her breath.

If only that was the case… _Damn it all._

* * *

A/N:

**Extremely late, but I finally managed to post this one before I sleep... and wake up in 4 hours ;A;**

**COFFEE TIME TOMORROW!**

**I'll try to post at least 1 more in the afternoon or all 3 if I have room... ;A;**

**Kill me, please. It's build up to CST's and I just wanna die...**


	7. Day 5: Blood- I Surrender

**Link for DA:** xxscarletxrosexx.

deviantart.

com/art/Day-5-Blood-I-Surrender-366160446?ga_submi t_new=10%253A1366173917

**(c) I Surrender belongs to m****e  
****(c) Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Ōkubo  
****(*) Inspired by "I Surrender" by Celine Dion**

**Summary:**

_"Do you love him?" she questioned, horrified, "Did you betray the vow you made with yourself because of Papa? You saw it yourself!" the insane Maka appeared before her, squatting down to meet her eyes. "**HE KILLED YOU**. If not for that stupid fight, you wouldn't be here dying."_

* * *

_Where am I…? Where is this place?_

The words echoed throughout the dark void like an endless, ominous tunnel, leaving the poor wondering soul, floating disoriented. What brought her here? A pair of emerald eyes strained into the darkness, searching for a speck of light of some sort to save her from this place. It was uncomfortable, looming with a thick, dreadful atmosphere. When her eyes finally adjusted to the surrounding, to her relief, she was able to make out the outlines of her own body in the dim area.

"Hello?" she called once more. "Is anyone there?"

A train of silence replied to her inquisition.

She strained her ears as she attempted once more, "If you are, please answer me!"

This time, a soft, tinkling giggle echoed.

_A child?_ Maka thought to herself, "Hey! Are you—hah" A sharp gasp interrupted the young meister the moment she had turned around, for the source of giggles stood before her. The girl had a fistful of hair tied into a pair of untidy pig tails that streamed over her shoulder for her head lolled to the left, observing the Maka as if she were a picture of words that could only be interpreted in a horizontal manner. Her right eye was completely open, while the other was narrowed to a squinting manner, twitching sporadically every now and then. Her lips parted into a large grin, one that reminded her of the charming, yet devious smirk belonging to the Cheshire cat. When Maka peered closer, she noticed how deathly white her skin appeared in contrast to the dark substance that dripped from her hair and clothes.

"**HEEEEELLLLLLOOOOOOOO!**~" she greeted in an obnoxious, soprano voice followed by a giggle, "What are you doing here? Did you come here to play with me?!"

"You're-"

She threw her head back, cackling like a maniac. It was then she noticed the dull silver staff that supported her unstable stupor. "Hey!~ Are you a mirror? 'Cuz I only see myself! You're mouth is moving, but nothing's coming out of mine! I'm sure of it!" She tossed her head over her other shoulder, watching the alarmed girl with her lips reformed back to its former state.

The recognition was undeniable as the fanatical girl commented. Maka was looking at a reflection of herself in a madness stupor.

"W—why am I here?" Maka asked hesitantly.

"I donno!~ You just went _poof_ and you showed up!" a trail of giggles followed after her answer.

Maka cringed at the maniacal girl. She didn't bother to hide it, knowing that she wouldn't care about the action, it was herself after all.

"But if I were you~" she lifted the pole that supported her and approached Maka, her body swung side to side, carelessly tossing the lack of equilibrium in her steps, before plunging the worn silver staff in front of her, "I'd ask this guy."

Maka eyed the rod skeptically from its splintered appearance at the bottom to the tattered ellipse at the very top. Just staring at it affected Maka in a sense of familiarity. She knew something was missing… something very important, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was, for her memory failed to illustrate any recollections relevant to the object.

"Who's _this guy_?"

"**You don't remember?!**" her madness filled reflection exclaimed. She giggled once more, "**You don't remember!**"

"**WHO IS HE? WHO ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?**" Maka balled her fist in the girl's drenched, cashmere, v-neck vest. "**WHO IS HE?**"

"You should go see a doctor! You don't look too well!~" she perceived, her head thrown back to release another fit of giggles.

Maka tugged her shirt violently in a way to shut her irrepressible insanity. "I'm serious." She pulled the girl closer to her, their noses touching, emerald to emerald eyes locked with one another like a cobra's grasp.

"Let go of me, this is weird. It's almost like you're going to kiss me. I may hate men, but that doesn't mean I'm playing for the other team," the insane girl winced, slapping Maka's tight grip away from her in the process.

Maka's continuous stare did not falter from that snide comment.

"Fine! Fine! I'll tell you if you promise to stop giving me that look! You know that face is creepy, especially when I'm staring at myself!" she whined.

"Speak. Now," Maka commanded authoritatively, as if she was talking to a misbehaving child.

"He is your partner. Ya know…" her insane form paused to scratch her head over exaggeratedly, "the one with white hair. He's not old though, he's young like mine—your—our age. He has these red eyes that remind me of blood—they're pretty! Bright colors make me happy!" she giggled. "And, and he's got these big teeth! They're huge chompers! Like those piranhas and sharks! Yeah! He's got a big appetite too!"

Maka clenched her eyes tightly, listening to the girl drone on about his description, mentally drawing a face along with the description, but alas, she only saw a hazy image of a guy's face. Although she didn't mention it, she just knew that the guy had unruly locks of hair pulled back with a black headband to keep it away from his eyes.

"Did ya remember?!"

"What's his name?"

"His name…what was his name…?" a dark coated glove scratched her chin, leaving a smudge of liquid as an aftermath. "Wait, wait, wait!" she thrust her hands in front of Maka, fingers separated and shook animatedly, "You're smart! You should figure it out! You're me after all! Hehehe!"

"If you give me his name, then I'm sure I can remember."

"Nooope!~" she emphasized the _p_ with the same trademark Cheshire grin. The girl proceeded to walk about the empty space with her wobbling feet padding along the invisible surface with glee. She swung the staff around like a baton, dancing with it like it was her partner.

Meanwhile, Maka continued to concentrate on her mental illustration. She had almost had it in her grasp, but with the other meister running amuck with her annoying laughter bouncing about the dark room, her train of thought diminished through her finger tips, along with the image of her mysterious, said partner.

"Could you cut it-" Maka paused, watching the girl with horror as she slammed the silver elliptical ring of the staff to the ground. "**HEY! WAIT! STOP! STOP! DON'T HURT **_**SOUL**_**!**"

The girl craned her neck towards Maka's direction; her dazed eyes gleamed with stars for a moment before scrambling her way back to Maka with the staff held above her head as she twirled.

"See! I told ya! You smart girl, you!" she chirped drunkenly.

"Soul?" Maka asked once more, the name was foreign to her, and yet it felt so natural to state his name from her lips.

"Yessireee~" she sang. "And just recently you had a fight with him too!"

Suddenly a sharp stabbing pressure struck Maka's mind, her hands instantly clutched her head, as if to suppress a migraine's wrathful wave. A blinding light blinded her to disorientation and before could react, a train of memories raced past her. The memories of Soul and their first confrontation, their endless, violent bickering, and the kind influence he had showed her of his diversity from the men she loathed.

She saw herself in her darkest hours, the memories she wanted to erase from her mind and thrust into the garbage can if allowed. She saw her moments of vulnerability and the strong desire to become stronger in order to prove others wrong and self-protection. She also saw herself purposely desolate from society because of who she was. Although Maka was a very social girl, she couldn't make any friends since all the girls hated her, and she couldn't trust men. If she hadn't met Soul, then perhaps she would still be that empty girl with a book glued to her face on a daily basis. Just an empty carcass living life with nothing but a goal to be stronger than her mother, but she had never expected to make loyal, trustworthy friends along the way. If not for Soul, then she wouldn't be the strong, confident Maka Albarn who created a Death Scythe as the second youngest meister of the academy. If not for Soul, who would she be?

As soon as the clips of Soul burned away from her memory, another sharp pain raced across Maka's mind, causing her to groan from its excruciating impact.

"Well?" the insanity Maka questioned. "Do you remember now?" The tone of her voice was different, it was no longer that pitchy, soprano voice, but hard and even like hers when she was serious.

"…I was attacked," Maka choked out. "After Soul and I fought, I left to buy ingredients for the dinner I was going to make him tonight for our three year anniversary…" Maka's hands slowly dropped to her sides, balling them into tight fists. "I sensed her… a witch."

Her crazed reflection returned to her inquisitive appearance. "Uh huh," she hummed, half-seriously in her usual soprano tone.

"She attacked me from behind and tried to lead me into the forest to distance my chances from salvation, but I took a turn into the alley, thinking to keep her within range for Professor Stein to get here on time…" tears began to form in the ducts of her eyes, and Maka clenched her eyes shut as a controlled response to keep it at bay. "I wasn't aware that she used my shadow and attacked me from behind…" Maka returned her attention to the person before her, "I can't be dead! Please, tell me I didn't just die." The hot tears streamed freely down Maka's face as she inquired once more, "**TELL ME I'M NOT DEAD!**" She clutched the hem of her vest once more barking, "**ANSWER ME!**"

Her maniacal self burst into an over bubbly fit of laughter as if Maka had told her the funniest story she's ever heard. "**I SAID: ANSWER M**-"

The sound of a sharp, rusty collision silenced Maka, as she realized the silver staff now had a curved black and red zigzag blade embrace her at the crook of the base. Her desperation had caused her to drop her guard, and now she was a cornered quarry.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the meister chastised in a serious tone, "You know you're in no condition to be dominant here, especially with your emotions running haywire."

Maka's grip on the girl did not falter although she was at a disadvantage. "So what?" she challenged bravely. "What are you gonna do about it?"

A fit of muffled laughter emanated from her. "Nothing~" she pulled back the blade from Maka's waist and rested it beside her with both hands clutched the worn staff with her trademark grin.

"What? So you're not going to kill me?"

The meister shook her head, "Our time is up."

"What do you mean?" Maka asked. Before she could inquire further, she felt liquid seep into her black combat boots. "What is this?!"

"Don't you recognize it?" the crazed Maka hung her head over the over her other shoulder with the same uncomfortable gaze locked with her alarmed ones, "this is the amount of blood you spilled." She giggled again, "Pretty, isn't it? I've been using it too."

Maka glanced everywhere, searching for a place to escape from the elevating amount of blood. _Shit, I gotta get out of here quick_.

"I know what you're thinking," she interrupted, "you want to escape, but you can't. This is the end here."

Maka's eyes widened, her desperation for survival crumbling before her very eyes. _So this is the end…_

"But, there's one way out ya know," she sang. Maka stared at her, dreadfully. "You have to succumb to the black blood from me. If you do, you will live."

The blood was already at her torso, and she only had another minute or two before the blood would overwhelm her. When she looked back up, her madness image was floating, several feet higher than her, safe from the danger arising from beneath.

"C'mon, just do it already." She offered a bloody hand to Maka, "You want to live too don't you? For Soul? He's your reason to live, right?"

Maka glanced down, her head hung forward, trails of her messy locks, shrouding her transparent emotions. "He is... Soul is dear to me," she answered truthfully. "Despite all our stupid arguments, he put up with me, and he stayed beside me this whole time."

"Do you love him?" she questioned, horrified, "Did you betray the vow you made with yourself because of Papa? You saw it yourself!" the insane Maka appeared before her, squatting down to meet her eyes. "**HE KILLED YOU**. If not for that stupid fight, you wouldn't be here dying."

"That was my own fault," Maka defended calmly.

"**SO YOU ADMIT YOU LOVE HIM?!**"

"I _**deeply care**_ for him."

"And you'll accept death over living?"

"Even in my death, I won't abandon him, nor will I betray him by accepting your compromise and further his endangering him."

"**Why. Why…? WHY? WHY!?** **MEN WILL ONLY HARM YOU! WHERE IS THAT REASONING? WHERE IS YOUR VOW?**"

"I held him accountable the moment we became partners," Maka answered firmly. "My vow, my weaknesses, my flaws, my mistakes, all my bad sides, and the good, I gave them all to Soul. Even my life, I surrender all of them to him."

"Is this your final answer?" she whispered, her teeth bit into the bloody gloves that made their way to her mouth.

The blood was already at Maka's chin, her arms flailed to test the substance, but it was too thick to move.

"Yes." She tasted blood on her lips.

"Then this is goodbye Maka Albarn…" her body grew transparent until she disappeared into the darkness, leaving Maka to face her demise alone.

_This is the end._

* * *

**A/N:**

**I just finished typing this while being on a high with Celine Dion's "I Surrender"**

I hope you guys enjoy it~ :3

So much feels in this~


	8. Day 6: Demon- Angel

**Link for DA:** xxscarletxrosexx.

deviantart.

com/art/Day-6-Demon-Angel-367084746

**(c) Angel belongs to me  
****(c) Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Ōkubo  
****(*) Inspired by "Happy Together" by Filet**

**Summary:**

_His fingers trembled while the memory played repetitively in his mind like a scratched record. He couldn't erase the image of her fragile, bloody form cradled gently in the hands of Professor Stein._

* * *

_Little Ogre had been prancing with jubilee with the horrific image of his unconscious meister, face down on the dark concrete tiles. She was still, awfully still, safe for the soft rise of her chest as she took painstakingly short, deep breaths. He poked at their bond, probing for her soul for reassurance and sighed with relief when he found hers still present, but growing weak by the hour. She was alive, but diagnosed in extreme critical condition._

_The bastard of a witch was well taken cared of with the sudden appearance of Black*Star, Tsubaki, Death the Kid, Liz, and Patty. For the moment, Soul temporarily partnered with Professor Stein to avenge his injured technician. His mind was shrouded with a dark, overwhelming cloud of rage and bloodlust. These scornful thoughts motivated the little demon to persuade Soul with colorful, enticing compromises to avenge Maka, momentarily blinding his rationality, and neglecting the danger of putting both himself and Stein in the wrath of little ogre now that Maka's anti-demon wave length was reduced._

_It was Professor Stein who had broke through his unreasonable thoughts with a calming advice to get his act back together. Soul made no attempt to conceal his uncool irrational actions, instead he settled with gritting his teeth, he couldn't believe the fact that he had almost gave into the little demon's negotiation. If not for Professor Stein, Soul would have sealed their fate._

_Once the witch had met her demise and the witch soul was awarded to Tsubaki for her finishing blow, the Spartoi students quietly followed after Professor Stein with Soul walking beside his meister like a loyal dog in complete silence, whilst contemplating disdainful thoughts._

_Of all days for them to fight… of all days to leave her all alone… it was this time a new witch appeared in Death City to attack Maka face to face at a dangerous ground, fully aware that her actions would become her sealed fate for her attempt to destroy DWMA's dangerously gifted secret weapon._

_**Maka…**_

_Where was his vow to ensure his meister's protection? Where was his unquestionable obedience? Where was his loyalty?_

_**Damn it all to hell.**_

_He had neglected his duty because of another stupid fight, one he could have prevented if he had only done the chore beforehand like he was supposed to, but now, the damage was done. He can't go back in time to beat his sorry ass out of bed to prevent this incident from taking place. But how could he help it? The little demon had been pestering him all week long with nightmares after nightmares, although he swore that it was not of his doing. The black blood had been acting up on its own accord. Something was making it act up again, similar to the mission when Maka and he had traveled to Russia. Now if only he had just told her about it rather than taking out his inconsiderate frustration on her. Then they would have settled the problem quicker._

_The thoughts lingered, echoing in his mind like a mantra for his failure before the memory dissolved into one of the familiar dark spacious room. Soul grew accustomed to the dream, well aware at the fact that something malicious was lurking around in the dark void. The painstaking wait for the expected always manifested a thick, tense atmosphere premature to the event that will soon follow._

_He recalled floating in darkness with no objection in thought before Maka screamed his name, urgently searching for his presence within the darkness, followed by an unfamiliar deep cackle. There was another horrific shriek, tantalizing his growing fear as he searched for her. When he finally found Maka, he froze in place, his ruby pupils dilated as they scanned over the crime scene. Maka was on the ground, her back towards him, torso sliced in half with a clean cut as blood continued to pool around her carcass. She was staring at Soul with lifeless eyes questioning him of where he had been and why he hadn't been there to protect her in time. He felt a dry heave make its way up his throat and immediately clamped his mouth shut to suppress it. He fell on all four, approaching Maka's body with slow deliberation and denial before another figure made their appearance known. He heard the soft clack of their shining, obsidian dress shoes followed by a black and grey striped dress pants. He eyed his opponent up until he gawked at his own reflection, one with a pair of blood lusting, sinister, scarlet eyes staring into his horrified pairs, a tongue out, licking at the leftover blood that trickled down his red and black crisscross blade. He smirked at Soul before throwing his head back and guffawed with triumph._

_"You're weak," his demonic reflection hissed. "If only you were here to protect her, then she wouldn't be dead."_

_"You bastard…" Soul growled menacingly._

_"There you go again." Soul froze in place, recognizing the diction. "Avoiding the problem again, are we, Soul? For once, can't you ever accept the blame? Let's face it, even if you were here on time, you would never be able to protect Maka from harm. You're weak."_

_Soul hung his head, narrowing his eyes at the ground with menacing disdain while his dark reflection approached him in his amused glory. He clapped a hand on the distraught albino's shoulder and closed in to his right ear, whispering the same tantalizing compromise that little ogre would promise him, "I can give you power, Soul. Just give in to the black blood and Maka will be safe."_

___He knew by now that he shouldn't even think twice about the compromise, but _Soul still waited, waited to hear the familiar voice to stop him when ever he considered the action. He wanted to hear her voice, even if her body appeared dismembered before him, he wanted to be assured that the real Maka was alive and well. But there came no answer, no call of his name in that inquiry tone. She didn't stop him, the choice was all up to him. Even without her warning, Soul glared back at his own reflection, glaring at him with determination despite his frazzled appearance.

_"Never." _

_With a sharp pain from his chest, Soul collapsed beside Maka._

* * *

He woke up from the nightmare drenched in cold sweat and rough labored breaths.

It was the third day after Maka's assault and Soul had been growing more and more restless with these violent dreams. The persuasions grew into violent demands since Maka's absence. From time to time, Soul had considered accepting to the little imp's invitation, but Maka's voice would ring out at the last second, causing him to retract, and end the dream with his death. But the most recent one didn't have Maka's voice warning him, it was his choice then, but his answer stood its ground.

Ever since Blair had received news of the incident, Soul was put on the edge, a mental and physical wreck. In attempt to cheer him up, Blair tried to formulate small talks to distract him, but only ended with a cold shoulder as the result. She made no further attempt to cheer him up, but she still cared for him when he failed to do so for his well being.

Little Ogre continued to pester him about his grueling mood at the back of his mind. The capricious creature then scampered over to the gramophone and popped in a slow foxtrot melody while he danced with himself, snapping untimely to the rhythm. Soul noticed that there was something peculiar in the demon's jubilee. Something about him was different. Soul strained his eyes from his luxurious red velvet chair, observing the demon from his beady onyx eyes to his black shining dress shoes. It was then he perceived that the little demon had grown once more.

Keeping the observation to himself, Soul returned to reality fixated on his usual, gloomy routine. It was hard to believe that he had slept through the entire daylight hours, let alone survived three days, because of the stupid reoccurring nightmares. Most of all, he was worried about the lack of Maka's voice in his current dream. His gut senses went off, causing Soul to worry over his meister. He wanted to see her, that's a damn fact. He didn't feel safe when she was away, nor did he feel sane.

Of course, there were multiple events where Maka had to stay at the DWMA sick bay over night as a result of partaking difficult missions. Although she was away, Soul handled her absence pretty well and the little demon would only pester him on a minimum. He mused to himself inquiring, if sensing her soul through their bond had reassured him to pass the day like any other. It was then he decided to check on Maka's soul again, probing for her presence when he detected how weak their connection was. Without another thought, Soul took his keys and rode off towards the academy.

* * *

Supposedly, Soul had plan to visit and stay with her for several hours, exemplifying his perfect portrayal of a loyal partner. He wanted to keep his vow and prove it to everyone, but most of all, to himself. Since they were practically on break, Soul intended to stay beside her, but Nygus and Professor Stein had forced him to go home because of his instability hovering around Maka. He was only limited to stay with her for two hours before being sent off home and locked under Blair's weary gaze. But with Blair out late on her graveyard duty, Soul took this as the perfect opportunity to escape.

Soul approached the building with his dominant arm transformed into the crisscross blade. He didn't give a damn that he was breaking into the school and disobeying orders. The albino was aware that Lord Death would be watching him at this point, and he openly admitted that he would take any punishment willingly, just as long as he could see Maka at this instant.

The door unbolted on its own accord, allowing the albino to enter swiftly down the eerie, dwindling hallways with a fast pace until he finally reached the infirmary. The door was unlocked to his surprise, but he dropped the thought aside as he made his way beside his sleeping meister. Over the deliberate beating tempo, Maka's chest expanded with deep, slow deliberation before exhaling with soft ease. If Soul hadn't known better, he would have slapped himself for growing paranoid over her peaceful slumber, when in actuality his meister has been in a comatose state for the past several days.

Soul rolled a green cushioned chair beside his meister and plopped beside her with watchful, sad eyes. A hand made its way to her left, resting on rising stomach. Soul cradled her small, porcelain hand in wide palm. She was warm, a tangible proof that kept his mind at ease, and so soft. Often times, Soul had forgotten that Maka was soft and fragile since she always portrayed a strong, determined front.

Experimentally, Soul hooked his fingers through her small gaps and closed the space. Something about this gesture was different although the duo had often held hands on a mission's daily basis. Holding Maka's hand always reassured Soul from his uncertainty, he'll admit to that, but right now, something's changed, and he couldn't tell what.

Pushing the thought aside, his eyes idly traveled to Maka's face. It wasn't the usual peaceful expression he had seen at the comfort of their home, but an unreadable appearance. A tube hung at the corner of her right bruised lip, pumping in oxygen to help her breathe better while another thin tube lined at the top of her lip with two tips inserted in her nostrils. Her face consisted of multiple bandages varying in size and a pair of swelling cheeks. Although Maka was covered, he knew that there were multiple gash marks from her back to her waist. Soul could only imagine how Maka put up one hell of a fight from her pursuer until the others came. They had made it at the nick of time, but any later would have been too late.

Soul lied his head on the space beside her, his head lolling to his left to get a better look at Maka's sleeping face. It was then he finally noticed that the little ogre's loud celebration had descended to bitter grumbles now that he was reunited with Maka, and the physical in contact with her caused the imp to flinch from her anti-demon wavelength. He smirked, amused by his irritation.

Now that he was with her, Soul was sure that he was more comfortable to sleep, but his lack of grogginess was nowhere to be found. Instead, Soul considered talking to Maka like how people talked to sleeping patience on one of those soap operas that Maka rarely watched. He laughed bitterly to himself at the thought of talking to someone who wouldn't even hear him, but it was way better than listening to the beeping rhythm.

With his other free hand, he gently smoothed Maka's untidy locks with idling attention. "The house is as quiet as a graveyard with you gone," he began, "I don't see you barging into my room, nagging at me about doing chores, but I can hear it in my mind. I still do it anyway, so don't worry about returning to a dirty home." He chuckled to himself for a couple moments. "Remember when I told you that I preferred a quiet partner rather than an obnoxiously loud one?" His thumb gently caressed her hand, "I lied. For the last three days, I couldn't stand the silence at home, knowing that you were here stuck with a damn coma. It's really uncool to make your partner worried, ya know? So wake up soon, tiny tits." Soul flinched, expecting that Maka would suddenly wake up and slam a book to his cranium, but returned to his relaxed state when the minute passed. "It's ironic that I can finally say that nickname without getting a chop from you, but I never thought I would ever admit that I would want one right now, just to know that you're still here." His smile faltered to a sad one as he pulled out his hand from her sandy locks of hair. "You never liked that nickname or _bookworm_, huh? What about, _Angel_? Remember when you complained nonstop to be called that? I don't get your mercurial personality sometimes, Maka. But if I called you that, would you wake up? How about it, iAngel/i?"

At that moment, Soul heard an unusual beep added into the steady beat before another added on to the piece.

"Maka?" Soul's heart galloped to his throat as he waited for his meister's awakening, but she did not reply, let alone make a move.

More beats slipped into the recording time frame, increasing her heart rate to an unstable tempo.

_**SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!**_ Soul's conscious screamed. His eyes hurriedly searched the dim room, expecting for Nygus to barge in any moment to handle the situation, but he was left to handle the problem on his own. There was no staff at this late morning to help him out.

A wave of adrenaline overflow his veins as he searched about the room frantically for anything to return Maka's heart rate back to its original pace. It was moments later he heard the dead line from the monitor. There was no more steady rhythm from her heart.

"Shit. Damn. Damn. Damn it all," Soul returned to Maka hurriedly, frustration coursing through his mind at the fact that there was no available defibrillator lying about for easy access. He knew there was one lying about probably at the back of the room somewhere, but he feared that it would be too late if he found it. Instead, he began pumping Maka's heart just like the way he was taught during medical class, grateful that Maka had forced him to practice the procedure. He eyed the monitor threateningly, hissing in mind that he couldn't rely on that damned machine. He continued to pump her heart for several more minutes before his body was overcame with violent shudders.

_**Maka…**_

With gentle care to avoid the hazardous tubes, Soul cradled his meister's head towards him. His teeth, locked with rage, frustration, and grief mixed into a chaotic ball of emotions. He couldn't believe that this was happening straight out of his dream. He dove into their bond, groping for any sign of Maka's euphoric soul, but found only darkness. Her soul was gone.

_**Maka passed on.**_

**No**, he would never accept that. Maka still had so much to live for. He still needed to show her that not all men were the same as her father. She still needed to grow stronger with him. That he still wanted to be with her.

"You can't…" his voice shook, "Maka, there's still so much for you to know." A hot tear slid down his cheeks. In bitter frustration he barked at her, "**WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR PROMISES, MAKA? DIDN'T YOU SAY THAT YOU KEPT THEM? WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PROMISE THAT YOU WOULD MAKE ME THE BEST WEAPON? WHAT HAPPENED TO MAKE OURSELVES THE LEGENDARY TEAM WITH KID, LIZ, PATTY, TSUBAKI, AND BLACK*STAR? YOU CAN'T BE GONE NOW, MAKA. WE'RE NOT DONE HERE!**"

The flat line trailed on as more tears continued to drip down his face without his consent.

_Damn it all to hell_, he cursed. Even after her death, Maka's warmth still lingered on her body, as if they were the last fragments clinging for dear life.

_**Maka…**_

Why hadn't he checked on their bond before? Why had he taken such and important detail for granted? Why hadn't Professor Stein told him that Maka's soul was growing weaker? He could see souls couldn't he? Why the hell would Professor Stein hide the fact that Maka was dying? Why would he leave him to suffer losing his partner? Was he sadistic to this extent?

His mind continued to bombard with accusations, increasing Soul's unstable sanity to the little ogre's pleasure. The imp continued to grow in size the more irrational thoughts distracted him from the pooling black blood that dripped down the dark room.

"Maka…"

_**Don't leave me…please.**_

* * *

**A/N:**

**I can't begin to tell you how frustrated I was when I wrote this one. I've been falling into a chain of writers block but I managed to pull through here. I hope you enjoy it! :D**

**Sorry for being extremely late. It seems that "I Surrender" wasn't giving me much of a motivation for this story (just the beginning part; the ending just turned to passionate, forceful atmosphere of "Happy Together").**

**The last one is on its way! :D**


	9. Day 7: Goodbye- Only You

**Link for DA:** xxscarletxrosexx.

deviantart.

com/art/Day-7-Goodbye-Only-You-368091861

**(c) Only You belongs to me  
****(c) Faith belongs to me  
****(c) Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Ōkubo**

**Summary:**

_The hair on his arms and neck rose once again as the cold air whipped around him with the same soft whisper of a voice he longed to hear that could only belong to one person alone._

**_Goodbye…_**

* * *

**_Soul…_**

_"Maka?!" he exclaimed, grasping the pale hand of his former meister's with his left hand whilst leading it to his left cheek. The warmth was still there, faintly present in the palm of her stiff hand. He twined his fingers through hers with the back of her palm to his ear, searching for a pulse, or even that voice he longed to hear for the past several days._

_To his dismay, there was no response after that, no echo that would back up his wistful hope of hearing his partner's soft, chime voice. It was neglected as an imagination of his incoherence, as hot tears continued to trickle down his heated face._

_He continued holding Maka's left hand to his cheek, while the other held her shoulder, pressing her stiff body to his chest as he continued to weep mutely with uncontrollable, searing tears._

_He knew he had to let her go and move on with his life. He knew Lord Death will assign him a new meister, someone who would probably treat him right and would never consider slamming a book to his head when he did something stupid. Yeah, they would treat him like the proper Prince that he was entitled, but their genuine honesty is nothing in comparison with Maka's._

_He should be leaving now, turning off the flat line of her inactive heart rate, and reporting to Lord Death that Maka had passed on. He should be heading home, sleeping in his own bed, but he doesn't. He remains standing, clutching her to him, desperately holding on to the fading warmth from the palm of her hand, as if he were providing the warmth in her stead._

_He shivers for a moment and glances to the window, pondering where the cold draft had came from, but finds it tightly shut as always. Before he could consider the temperature of the room, goose bumps trail up his arms, to his neck, and finally down his spine. His eyes strain into the darkness, searching for the source that's causing him to react this way, ready to attack if in the face of danger, but the only people present within the medical wing are he and his former meister._

_The hair on his arms and neck rose once again as the cold air whipped around him with the same soft whisper of a voice he longed to hear that could only belong to one person alone._

**_Goodbye…_**

* * *

"Daddy…Daddy…Daddy…"

"Huh…?" he grumbled absentmindedly, his mind set elsewhere.

"Daddy," the young child crawled on to her father's chest, demanding his attention with authority. "Daddy, wake up! Mama is coming home today, right?"

The albino young man groaned as he stretched on his back, followed by tucking his four year old daughter under his left arm, supporting her weight by the secure grip around her petite waist. She screeched with chiming delight as she stared at her arms and legs dangling three feet off the ground.

The young man chuckled before gently tossing her on the queen size bed. He watched with amusement as his snow haired daughter rolled across the mattress before scrambling towards him and plopped on her bottom.

"Sometimes, you're more like a puppy than a child, Faith," her father commented.

The young girl smiled, proudly flashing the same sharp razor teeth that she inherited from her father as she exclaims, "A cute puppy!"

Her father chuckles, but the laughter doesn't reach his eyes. The young girl craned her neck to the left, noting her father's unhappy behavior with sharp observation. "Daddy, why are you sad?"

The albino shrugged indifferently as one hand made its way to the back of his head out of habit. "It's nothing, sweetie."

"Did you have a nightmare, too?"

Soul turned around, facing his daughter's frowning face. He smiled softly for her genuine concern and gently ruffled her bobbed white hair. "It's just a bad dream, Faith. It's not real."

It was more than that, actually, it was a vision of the past. He would never share this horrible experience with his daughter and he was aware that she will learn about it on her own, and that she will face a similar fate one day. For now, he wanted to protect her innocence as much as he can.

His daughter continued to pout, unwilling to buy his story, but she didn't press for the answer. She continued to stare at her father's ruby eyes with idling inquiry.

"Faith, go get ready before your Aunt Tsubaki shows up. You want to look nice for Mama, don't you?"

That hooked the young girl's attention right away and with her mercurial split personality, her frown transformed into a radiant smile. "Okay!" With her arms outstretched to her father, he lifted her off the bed and gently guided her to the floor. With one final smile, the young girl scampered out of the bedroom and into hers.

With his daughter finally out of the room, his somber mood returned along with flashbacks of the nightmare. It had been an awfully long time since he dreamed of something so horrendous, let alone a vision. Little ogre still existed within him, dormant for the most part, his offer forever lingered. Soul has never accepted the term until situations had taken a drastic turn during missions with his current meister, but for the most part, he continued to rely on his own strength rather than the black blood.

"Daddy!" his daughter's voice echoed down the narrowed hallway, "Aunt Tsu-tsu!?"

"I'm coming, sweetie. Let Daddy open the door." Soul made a beeline to the front door while his daughter hid behind him, her arms wrapped securely behind her father's leg.

A tall woman with peach skin smiled kindly before greeting Soul with a muffled giggle. "Did you have another nap again, Soul?"

Soul returned the gesture with his own chuckle as he allowed her in, "Huh, what gave it away?"

Tsubaki gestured at her head with a polite smile.

"Auntie!" the young child screamed affectionately. Tsubaki turned her attention to the child before scooping her up in her arms.

"Hello, Faith. How are you, my dear?" Tsubaki greeted.

"Good, Auntie! Today Daddy and I watched a movie with talking animals, but then he fell asleep," she pouted.

Tsubaki giggled softly as she smoothed out the young girl's messy hair. "That sounds like a lot of fun. I wish I could watch a movie with you sometimes."

"Next time! Promise?" she hooked a small pinky towards her.

With a gentle smile, Tsubaki hooked her slender pinky with hers, "Promise."

Soul watched the exchange with admiration of the tall female's unconditional love for his child. "Hey Tsubaki, we're gonna go on an errand, do you wanna join us?"

"Auntie, say yes! Say yes!" the energetic child encouraged.

"Well if, Faith insists," she chuckled.

"Great," Soul nodded approvingly, "I heard Liz was throwing a grand welcoming party at Kid's place tonight."

Tsubaki nodded enthusiastically, "Mhmm. I got the invite as well. I think it's a wonderful idea to welcome back our meisters after a rigorous training."

"Yeah, it's pretty thoughtful of her to invite all of us for another party. Things sure have quieted down since Black*Star's absence."

"Agreed," Tsubaki answered, "It's kind of lonesome at home without him around, but it can't be helped."

"Yeah," Soul nodded melancholy.

Sensing that the atmosphere had shifted to seriousness, Tsubaki gently brought the albino child to the ground and requested Faith to show her how to dress up properly. With an excited squeal, Faith raced back to her room with a pleasing motivation. After hearing the energetic slam of her door, Tsubaki returned her attention to her comrade.

"Soul, how are you, really? You know your wife is very worried about you these days, especially when she's away."

Soul ruffled the back of his head with one hand while the other tucked into the pockets of his worn out jeans. "Honestly, I'm unsure." Tsubaki offered an encouraging smile, urging him to continue if he wished. "It's nothing serious, Tsubaki, but thanks for your concern. I appreciate it."

Tsubaki nodded, accepting his answer even if it were a white lie. She knew Soul would resolve his conflict eventually, hopefully with his wife's assistance. As if he were reading her mind, Soul reassured the dark blade, "I'll tell her, don't worry." That alone won her confidence in him.

Moments later, Faith skipped her way back to the waiting adults, pausing to twirl her accomplishment for slipping into a white sundress with ease. After impressed praises and compliments, the trio departed the Evans household.

* * *

"Finally you showed up," a tall brunette greeted behind a pair of white, luxurious French doors. "For a moment I thought you guys would never come."

Soul chuckled as he held the door open for Tsubaki, who returned a polite gratitude before closing the door behind him. "Well, ya know what they say, Liz. An Evans gotta keep their grand entrance," Soul flashed his best, dangerous, charming grin, challenging Liz into a game of poker face.

"Well played, Soul, well played," Liz replied evenly as she made her way to the living room couch, fighting back the urge to grin at his witty excuse and failing miserably.

From behind, an over bubbly fair-haired young woman poked her head besides the host's side, giggling into her palm before greeting with a loud, "HI YA!"

"Aunt Patty!" the young albino screamed from behind her father's legs.

"Faith!" Patty returned with jubilee as she jumped over the couch like a graceful gazelle. She and the child ran towards each other in a way that reminded their audience of a dramatic, slow moving prance across an imaginary field of blooming flowers.

"Aunt Patty!"

"Faith!"

"Aunt Patty!"

"Faith!"

"Aunt Pat-"

"Just get on with it," Liz interrupted, causing the duo to return in their normal speed, meeting one another quickly in the center of their short distance. Faith leaped into Patty's arms, overjoyed with their reunion. Even after a year's separation, Faith had not forgotten her adolescent aunt.

Soul met Liz's and Tsubaki's eyes with a blank expression before all three broke into guffaws, each formulating a single thought revolving around Patty's unchanged behavior. She had become more beautiful every passing year, growing more into a mature, attractive young woman such as her sister. Her face had outgrown its childish features, with strong cheekbones, a well defined nose, full, luscious lips, and a slim body with deadly curves that would have any man begging on their knees. It was no wonder she was pursued with endless courtships throughout her travels around the world.

"It's great to see you again, Patty," Soul acknowledged, "How's your adventure so far? Found anyone to tie down yet?"

Patty shook her head rigorously, "Nope! I just liked to travel! I have to tell Black*Star about all the foods I ate! They're tasty!"

Liz smiled approvingly as she pat her younger sibling's head, "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Mhmm!" Patty agreed, "But I'm done now. I want to stay with my sis and Kid again!"

"You visited every place on Earth already?" Tsubaki inquired, amazed by how fast her travel had been.

Patty shook her head, stating, "Nope. I just missed being around my sis and Kid." With one hand supporting Faith and the other outstretched to her older sister, Patty gestured for a one arm embrace. With tears prickling her eyes, Liz happily obliged, wailing how much she had missed her sister during Kid's departures. She still had yet to adjust to loneliness.

"I'm glad you're back, Patty," Liz sniffled, "don't leave your big sister again, okay?"

"Okie-dokie!" Patty chimed before releasing her crying sister and offering little Faith to Liz.

"Hey, little princess," Liz cooed as she cradled the young girl in her arms. Faith Evans smiled at the familiar nickname, meeting her aunt's blue eyes with her own ruby orbs. She carefully rubbed off the tears formulating at the edges of her carrier's eyes, who in returned with a touched smile.

"Auntie, I'm hungry," she whined.

"Okay, let's go to the kitchen and see what we can do about mister grumbles," she replied playfully, carrying off the little girl towards a pair of elegant, obsidian, polished doors.

"Precious, isn't she?" Tsubaki commented heart struck by the child's natural charisma.

"Mhmm!" Patty agreed whole heartedly.

"She's definitely a lot like her mother," Soul commented, "well, inverted."

"Her communication is really impressive for a four year old," Tsubaki noted.

"It's her mother's influence. I try to keep her out of the house more often. It's not healthy to keep kids indoors and have mushrooms sprouted from their head."

Tsubaki and Patty shared an amused chuckle before glancing at the clock.

"By chance, do you guys know what time our meisters should be arriving?" Tsubaki questioned.

Soul shook his head and shrugged, shifting his attention to the blond sibling of their host. "It should be at eight."

"Then we better get moving," Tsubaki suggested, "it's ten minutes until eight."

"Shit!" Soul exclaimed, "I'd better get the food out of the trunk right now."

"Do you need help?" Patty offered.

"Sure thing," Soul replied thankfully, leading the duo back to the front entrance, "you know how Black*Star's appetite is like when he comes back after a long mission."

Tsubaki giggled, "I made all his favorites. Surely, he'll be very happy."

"I'm sure he'll love every one of them. He is your husband after all, Tsubaki," Soul added as he fished out his keys and opened the trunk. "I just hope he doesn't show up early as usual, or else this surprise arrangement will be a complete failure."

* * *

"Why don't you stay a bit longer, guys? After all we just arrived."

"At eight o'clock as usual, Kid. Damn you and your stupid OCD."

"Hey, I'm trying to accept change, okay?"

"Guys, drop it."

Three pairs of steps echoed across the paste colored tiles as the owner of the home felt across the wall, searching for the light switch.

"Why don't you just call out to Liz, Kid? She should be home, right?"

"She may be sleeping, Black*Star. It's best not to wake up a sleeping woman."

"She's right, Black*Star, women do have a tendency to be pretty violent when they don't receive their beauty sleeps. I don't want to be the end receiving it."

The weapons muffled their laughter with a hand to their mouth as they eavesdropped on their partners' conversation.

"Kid, where the hell is your light switch?"

"It should be right around… ah, here."

With an instant flick of his finger, the mansion alit, followed by a frenzy jump from their weapons as they screamed out in unison, "Surprise! Welcome home!"

"My word," Death the Kid gasped at the large banner and decorations, "it's utterly and beautifully symmetrical!"

"Do you like it, Kid?" Liz inquired, "I got a little help from a special friend of ours."

"And who might that special friend be, Liz?"

"ME! Silly!" Patty pounced on her former partner from behind.

"Patty!" Black*Star exclaimed as he approached her, "Hey! How are ya? How was traveling the world? Did you get any souvenirs for your favorite god?"

"Haha! Nope!" Patty exclaimed, "But I gotta tell you about all the food I ate! I wish you were there to taste them! They're really, really good!"

As the two conversed, Faith made a beeline straight to her mother with excited, open arms. "Mama!" she cried out, "Mama!"

The young woman sat on her knees as she held her arms open to her daughter for a loving embrace. "Faith! Oh, I've missed you so much."

"Me too, Mama," Faith mumbled as she wrapped her arms around her mother's neck.

Soul appreciated the exchange from a distance, giving time for the reunited mother and child to have their moment before cutting in. He watched as Faith tapped her mother's cheek for attention, before cupping a whisper to her mother's ear. The woman responded with a worried look in her dark eyes as she stared at the smooth tiled floors with firm concentration before meeting her husband's ruby orbs with concern and inquiry mixed together. "I see," she responded followed by an audible voice for her audience, "Faith, how about you help your Aunt Tsubaki and Aunt Liz with dinner? I'm sure they'll need one more helper." With an obedient nod, Faith skipped towards her two aunts and took their hands as they made their way to the kitchen. Kid and Black*Star followed suit, whilst conversing with Patty's accounted travels.

Without needing to ask about their short conversation, Soul approached his wife, offering a hand to help her up. She took it appreciatively before meeting his eyes once more. "Soul, do you mind telling me about it?"

"Do I have any choice?" Soul bantered, but his wife responded with a disapproving glare. "It's nothing bad, just the usual nightmares I used to have."

"That little ogre again?"

Soul didn't respond.

"He's still pestering you with that bargain of his? He sure is stubborn."

"Well he is a part of me after all," Soul grumbled.

"What's the real story, Soul?"

"It's nothing, really. Besides it's all in the past. You're here, standing… breathing… living… alive and well… Maka."

* * *

_He remembered insanity clouding his mind, pulsing through his veins with rapid, exhilaration. He remembered giving up the suppression, his motivation gone along with the person who lay motionless in his arms. There was no point to restrain his overwhelming fury, in any case, why should he? It was the witch's damn fault for killing Maka and whisking her away from him. He had every right to express his resentful disposition and to carry on his dire goal to give them what they deserved. Besides, a witch's fate had already sealed the moment they affirmed their oath._

_He recalled the insanity filling his body with tremendous powers, one beyond any imagination. He welcomed the power, welcomed the black blood that seeped from the bland checkered tiles, and welcomed the forceful yank as the black blood slowly swallowed him._

_But all seemed to cease in his mind. Everything had fallen into a complete halt as if time had frozen still. Soul could finally breathe and acknowledge of what his blinding action had almost got himself into. Instead of thinking about his stupid actions, he focused on the invisible warm rays that caressed his face. He strained his eyes within the dark room, wriggling and fighting his way out of the sticky substance that restrained him. With more force, the tar gave in to thin, stretchy strings as Soul's members pulled out of their confinement. Once liberated, he searched for the warmth once more, walking through an endless path within his own mind with nothing but the invisible light's warmth guiding his way. Growing anxious, he sprinted as fast as his toned legs allowed him._

_He ran a marathon for what seemed like days before he could finally see a white light peeping through a small crack. The closer he approached the more warmth flooded through his body, destroying the cold, numbing substance that had formerly raced through his veins. With only an arm's length away, Soul stood in front of the large crack with attentive caution. Sensing that the mysterious beam was anything but life threatening, Soul took a final step towards it and connected his palm to the light._

_At an instant, he was back in the infirmary, back to moment where he had just witnessed the death of his meister. The thought of her passing filled Soul with melancholy thoughts, but… wait, what's this? A steady cadence echoed about the room, replacing the previous dreaded, annoying hum._

_His heart jumped to his throat as he glanced down at the person he held with tender care. She was looking up at him with her large emerald pools, relief expressed in her dilated eyes once she connected with a reflection of his ruby orbs._

_"M-Ma-Maka…?" he airily inquired._

_"Good," she sighed in relief, "you're back."_

_In a blink of an eye, Soul's arms immediately wrapped themselves around Maka's small frame with shuddering incredulity._

_"Soul…" she queried._

_"You're alive..." he whispered softly._

_Maka didn't reply, giving Soul the opportunity to sink everything in._

_"Your heart… you didn't… leave…" he stammered, jumbled._

_Soul felt his hand squeezed, momentarily forgetting that he had grasped her left palm with desperation during her passing. He watched with entrancement as Maka guided their hands to his left cheek, while her other free hand met the other. With a point finger from their interlaced hold and a thumb on the other, she brushed the hot tears that continued to trail down his face. Unaware that the waterworks had been continuing, Soul was taken aback, slightly embarrassed that his meister had caught him crying. **How uncool**._

_"These tears," she observed with a feeble tone, "did you cry for me?"_

_"You're imagining things, Maka," he mumbled._

_"Don't start this with me again," Maka huffed indignantly. She glared at him, waiting to have her former question answered._

_Soul did nothing of the sort, as he wandered into his usual circumlocution answer. "Just don't leave me again, idiot." Maka was pulled back by his serious tone and immediately met his remote eyes. Before she could mutter another word, Soul stated, "At least give me brain damage before you leave or drag my ass out of bed." Soul broke contact from her eyes as he laid his head on top of hers with his arms still encircling her in a protective vice. Then in a hushed tone he murmured, "Don't make me worry ever again, idiot."_

_With her free hand, Maka gently smacked Soul's forehead with the palm of her hand as she responded, "Idiot."_

* * *

Soul's eyes leisurely avoided Maka's concerned gaze and made their way to her ashen sandy locks. A familiar blue lace caught his attention and he couldn't help but sidestep behind her for a better look. He chuckles to himself with amusement, recalling the memories that single accessory carried.

Maka eyed him warily for his strange behavior, nevertheless questioned his motive. "What's so funny, Soul?"

"You actually wore it." His fingers grasped for the silky fabric that tied the crown of her head to the back between his finger tips before bringing it along with a strand of her hair to his lips, inhaling her familiar floral scent before gently kissing the material. "Do you remember when we had that spring cleaning ten years ago?"

Maka chuckled, turning to face him, "Of course. That's how I found this."

"And how I met you," Soul smirked, "by the way, you never explained to me what you thought when you found it."

Maka flushed a bright red, her assumption impacting her thoughts like a brick wall. "I..."

Soul smirked at his meister's rare timid reaction, biting back the urge to laugh at her perplexed composure as she wracked her mind for words to explain her thoughts for a better response.

"I thought you…" her voice descended to a quiet whisper, her cheeks glowing to a dazzling red that would put a tomato to shame, "you…slept with another woman."

Although Soul's assumption was correct, he couldn't help but release a loud guffaw. Maka glared at him, a cheek puffed, while a pout etched on her lips. "That's not funny, Soul."

Soul wrapped his arms around Maka's waist from behind as the euphoric amusement died down. "Why would I do that? Maka, my goal has always been to protect you. I've never wanted to hurt you in any way. You know you're important to me."

Maka leaned back to him, finding comfort with her head resting at the base of his neck. She crossed her arms over her chest, her attitude unaffected by his affections. "I bet you didn't think that when ever we fought."

"That's not true."

"C'mon, Soul, let's be reasonable here. Didn't you ever think of leaving me at least once? Weren't you ever sick of me?"

Soul buried his face in Maka's hair, neglecting the blue ribbon that held its preset appearance. "I had thought about it," he answered earnestly to Maka's stung expectation, "but I could never imagine a life that you're not a part of." Maka's eyes glowed to that response. "You have to admit, fighting actually taught us something."

"They are pretty significant and they were the catalyst for our strong relationship," Maka agreed wholeheartedly. "But even with all these trust we built up, it didn't stop you from hiding your problems from me."

"Name one," he challenged.

"Black blood."

Soul fell silent, guiltily chewing his cheeks before muttering, "I had my reasons."

"For what? Soul, you're not only hurting yourself, but me as well. When you hide these things from me, I feel useless. I trust you, Soul, but didn't you feel the same for me?"

"I do, Maka. I really do. I just didn't want you to get involved. What if you get hurt again like… like the other time?"

Maka turned around to face her husband, cupping his cheeks with her small hands in order to meet his gaze. "Soul, forget the past. That was twelve years ago at Russia, we're here in Nevada, present day. I'm here with you, as your wife, and the mother of your child."

Soul cupped his hands over hers, interlacing his finger's to overlap her petite, slender fingers. He guided one of her hand to his lips and gently kissed it with utmost affection he could pour into the small gesture. "I know, I know. I learned my lesson."

"And if ever we go through another stupid fight like ten years ago?" Soul cringed, recalling his vision that early afternoon.

"I'll be by your side, no matter what."

"And I yours," Maka giggled approvingly.

"Hey, Maka?"

"Yeah?"

Soul bent down to meet Maka's lips for a quick, gentle kiss. His wife stared at him, frazzled by the sudden gesture before shrieking in a hush, soprano pitch, "**What was that for Soul?!**"

"I wanted to make sure you're really here."

Maka flushed red, closing her eyes to avoid contact while their foreheads remained connected to one another. "Geez, that nightmare must have gotten into your head pretty bad." Curiosity getting the best of her, her gaze locked with his eyes, "What was it about?"

Soul paused, considering his words carefully and thoughtfully without giving away his frazzled composure, "A life without you."

"I'm sorry, Mister Evans, but it seems that you're tied to a troublesome young woman for life." Soul chuckled as he freed one hand to cup Maka's cheeks.

"Unfortunately so," he bantered. "Ow." Maka pinched his cheeks with both her interlaced and free hand.

"What was that you said, Mister Evans? I think you slurred there for a second."

"I said nothing of the sort, sweetie," Soul played along, "but with all joking matters aside." Maka released her grip at the tone of his seriousness, "did I keep my promises to you?"

Maka smiled before pecking his right swollen cheek. "Yes." Silence loomed over between the happy lovers for several moments before Maka asked, "Hey Soul, do you ever get sick of me, honestly?"

Now it was Soul's turn to tug at Maka's cheeks while she protested, "Hey!"

"Stupid bookworm, we just went over this," he sighed monotone, "If I ever grew tired of you, then I would have left you a long time ago. How many times do I have to tell you that-" a spark of recognition danced into Soul's mind, "don't tell me you're been having nightmares too."

To Maka's horrified embarrassment, the bright tint returned to her cheeks. Soul chuckles once more before pulling her into another hug, burying her head into his chest while his lips craned close to her ear to softly whisper, "I promise, I'm not thinking of leaving you any time soon. Soul began to smother her with hot trails of peppering kisses from her ear to her cheek, to her neck, and back. He was pleased by Maka's shuddering response.

"Not now, Soul, they'll see us," Maka complained.

"They've been gone for a long time," Soul replied huskily, "Let them see then. You are mine anyways, Maka Evans." Soul continued his process, trailing more peppered kisses until he met her lips once more for a passionate kiss. She sighed to the contact, relishing in the feeling of being complete and responded to the kiss hungrily. Soul slipped a tongue at the base of her lips, asking for entrance and she obliged. His tongue danced with hers like a fiery tango, fighting for dominance. As the heated kiss grew intense, Soul's hands automatically slid underneath the hem of Maka's indigo shirt, yearning to touch her over the days that they had been separated.

Moments later, he found himself sprawled on the ground, his head searing with a massive migraine, but he dared not utter a word, fearing that it would be his demise.

"Don't take advantage of me, Soul Evans," she hissed through her flustered composure.

As if on cue, the gang finally arrived, with several trays of their hot meals prepared in their hands, laughing as they shared humorous tales of their pasts.

"Of course I would beat his sorry ass for laying eyes on my wife," Black*Star huffed.

"Profanity, Black*Star," Kid filtered, turning his attention to the young albino child who carried their eating utensils in a small, plastic tray. She stared back at her uncles with wonder.

"Oh! Sorry!" Black*Star exclaimed. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to stop Tsubaki's backhand across the rear of his head.

At the sight of her parents, Faith tugged on Tsubaki's blue jeans. The dark blade tool squat down to listen to whisper her uncertainty. "Auntie, Mama and Daddy are fighting again?"

Tsubaki chuckled as she pat the girl's head. With a smile she answered, "They're just being lovey-dovey."

With a big "Oh!" she ran towards her parents with the tray still grasped in her small hands. "Mama! Daddy! Eat!"

"Alright, sweetie, we'll be there in a second," her father responded, lifting his face from the ground.

"Go ahead and finish helping them," Maka encouraged.

"Okay!" Faith scrambled her way back to the other adults who smiled approvingly of her cooperation.

Soul smiled at their daughter before glancing to his wife. She met him with a small smile etched on her lips, a finger brought over her lips. She winked at him before walking ahead, her fingers laced behind her back.

Soul chuckled bitterly at his wife's inconsideration to assist him. _Immature woman._ But he would have her no other way. Quietly to himself he muttered, "If ever my life repeated, I would always choose you, Maka. Only with you, we'd pull through."

* * *

**A/N:**

**You guys must seriously hate me for doing this to you, but I GOTCHA!**  
**I'm super glad you fell for my plan :3**  
**I hope this really got to your feels and all, cuz I seriously worked hard to make this a good ending.**

**So the name "Faith" actually has significance in this story. Recall that Maka is surrounded by people who have names relevant to synonym of "ghost" (Spirit, Soul, and Kami). For a while, I brainstormed of other synonyms relevant to that word (I even considered using Filipino and Spanish words for the word ghost but who would want that?!). So tossing that thought aside, I thought about Soul and Maka's relationship and came up with "Faith". According to Micro word "faith" means: confidence, trust, reliance, assurance, conviction, belief, devotion, and loyalty. In a nutshell, that sums up Soul and Maka's relationship towards one another. Because of that, I thought it was fitting to say that their beautiful relationship has blessed them with a wonderful, brilliant daughter.**

**For you guys who don't get it, the "Goodbye" they're saying to is to their doubts. When Soul ends the story, he's saying that they'd pull through anything as long as they were together.**

**Anyways, I hope you guys really enjoyed it (I know I have!) Sorry for being two weeks late to finally submit this! ^^;**  
**Thanks for joining these duo on a wonderful journey :')**


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